Outside, looking in
by Timekpr
Summary: Spencer is used to being on the outside, looking in. Rossi/Morgan from Reid's PoV. Also Rossi/Reid, possibly Morgan/Rossi/Reid if the muse holds true. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

A/N - My first CM story, inspired by a series of email conversations with lastcrazyhorn. I doubt this was what she had in mind when suggesting I try writing Rossi/Morgan - but I hope it doesn't disappoint too badly. If you want more, please review.

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He's the most sensual man Spencer has ever watched. And he watches Rossi. Frequently. Almost obsessively. Watches Rossi reassure Emily with a caress to her lower back that would be sexual harassment from any one else, but is somehow just a casual gesture of friendship from him. Sees Hotch, Hotch who maintains a private personal space that no one invades uninvited, allowing Rossi the physical intimacy of embraces with no reaction other than one of his rare smiles. Hears the warmth in Garcia's voice that makes her entirely professional dialog with Rossi more sexually charged than her blatantly invitational flirting with Morgan. Feels the heat build in himself when Rossi's eyes connect with his own across the conference table. Has to hide a grin when Morgan's aggressively heterosexual body language becomes stiff and forced when confronted with David's comfortable sexual self-assurance.

But Rossi has morals. Lines he never crosses. All the smooth liquid heat that surrounds David Rossi shifts to something more purely fatherly when he slips an arm around JJ. It amazes Reid that Rossi can turn it off like a light switch to deal with a victim, and only a moment later it blazes like a bonfire when all the man does is tilt his head to look at Hotch.

It isn't a secret, exactly, that Rossi is bisexual. Reid spotted it the first week David Rossi walked back in to the BAU. It takes Prentiss and Morgan a week or two longer, and he's certain Hotch already knew. JJ likely wouldn't care if she did notice, and Garcia, she's just as omnivorous in her sexual appetites. The team never discusses it - all the agreement not to profile each other really means is that they never admit what they see. An unspoken sacred trust that lets them stay sane with the knowledge that nothing can stay hidden from each other.

He feels a little guilty for studying Rossi so intently. Like he's breaking those unwritten rules. But he just can't stop. He's jealous, envious, and he just has to see what's inside David Rossi. Jealous that David displays his passion openly, envious that he can't show his team that he, too, would surrender himself to their pleasure if they would give him the chance. Wanting just once to be seen as a man, not a child. To be seen as a lover, not a colleague.

Reid knows he would have missed the signs if he hadn't been observing so closely. Might not have seen how Morgan changes from rigidly uptight to warmly relaxed around Rossi. Might have missed how David suddenly knows exactly how Morgan likes his coffee, and the perfect time to stop by his desk in the bullpen with a refill. Might have overlooked how Morgan's eyes linger on Rossi walking up the stairs to Hotch's office, or how David swaggers just a little more when he knows Morgan is watching him.

Images of Derek and David together torment him every night. When he wraps soapy fingers around his own cock he imagines Derek on his knees, David driving himself balls deep into those dark lips. He wakes from dream images of Morgan pushing those big fingers into Rossi, David's usual eloquence reduced to animal grunts and pleading for "more" and "harder". Plays over and over in his mind the picture of Derek begging to be allowed to come while David pounds into his ass. Can almost hear the wet slick sound of sex and smell the sweat-soaked sheets when Derek fucks Dave face-to-face, slow and hard, never breaking eye contact, nothing to hide from each other.

Spencer is used to being on the outside, looking in.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N - thanks to all who took a moment to review. I'm a little short on adult content this chapter but I couldn't keep Spencer focused, he kept getting distracted by the case!

I am quite desperate for a beta reader, please send me a PM if you'd be willing to beta for me.

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He's avoiding them. Not avoiding Rossi, not avoiding Morgan; but avoiding _Derek and David. _If there is a Derek and David outside of his own fevered imaginings and wet dreams. Spencer has done more laundry in the last three weeks than he cares to quantify. His own feelings are a jumbled mix of desire, curiosity, and confusion. Most days the confusion overwhelms the rest of the equation.

Review and advise days are the worst. Days without active cases where they just read files and try to tell the locals how to catch killers and rapists that just aren't serious enough for a BAU team to tackle. Trapped together in the office, leaning over each others shoulders and making deals to trade off files after Emily loudly complains that she's going to light her desk on fire if she has to read another serial arson case today.

Reid's got a whole stack of autopsy photos spread over his desk when he notices the silence. The absence of shuffling papers and random questions being spouted to the room in general makes his skin crawl with dread - most commonly silence is a prelude to someone announcing they have a bad one that needs the entire team to analyze. Deliberately, he lifts his eyes to scan the bullpen.

Emily is typing softly, so unlike her usual forceful strikes, so softly that he knows she's giving some small-town sheriff the news that he's got a pyromaniac on his turf. Probably some local kid, one who grew up in town, a troubled teenager who's about to escalate to occupied buildings and taking lives.

JJ is just visible through the glass, out in the hall, talking with one of the agents from cybercrimes. Probably a pedophile case - cyber catches most of those cases now, and Spencer is glad his team is rarely called to assist them. He can't stand seeing Morgan suffer every time a sexual predator demands the BAU's attention.

Hotch's door is closed, which means Strauss is on the phone. It used to be that Hotch always kept the door closed, but since Haley left he keeps it open. Having lost one family by shutting them out, Spencer knows that Hotch won't risk putting this family at a distance. Even a distance so short as a closed door.

Morgan is nowhere to be seen, or heard. Most of the time Derek is the loudest profiler in the entire building, someone who just announces to the room at large, "What was the name of that detective in Arizona, on that case where the unsub was sodomizing hotel maids and ejaculating on their aprons?", like he's asking if there's any coffee left. Morgan is the reason JJ is doing a consult in the hallway, and maybe its deliberate action on Morgan's part to keep them all safe and insulated from the rest of the FBI.

And maybe, thinks Spencer, I do it too. Nothing says, 'stay away' quite like a half dozen color photos of victims spread out across his desk like a macabre welcome mat. The pictures grab his attention back, some pattern in the large caliber bullet wounds and facial bruising hovering just out of reach of his conscious mind. Unconsciously he traces his fingers along the edge of the closest image, trying to feel a pattern his eyes can't spot.

A dark voice freezes him in place, fingertips hovering in midair. Rossi's voice, warm and friendly with the dark undertone that always spikes directly into his groin, "What have you got, Reid?"

Rossi, directly behind him. So close that Spencer can sense the warmth of the body along his spine. So sudden that his compartmentalization fails utterly for a moment and he wonders how long he's been sitting here stroking evidence, completely immersed in chasing a half-formed hypothesis. So unexpected, that he can't even collect his own thoughts to respond.

Rossi, looming over him. Spencer jumps a little, startled, when Rossi's hands come to rest on his shoulders. He melts a little when he feels soft fingers graze along the edge of his collar as David leans forward examining the photo array on his desk.

It takes a cough and two stutters before Spencer can force words past the knot of sexual tension caught in his throat, "Akron, OH. In the last three months four men and two women shot execution style with large caliber handguns. Ballistics don't match but all have some degree of perimortem bruising to the head and face. Locals can't find any kind of a link between the victims."

"You're overthinking things, Reid. Stop thinking and just let it happen once in a while. Instincts are at the deepest core of who we are, and what we do." Rossi's advice hits him like a stage direction, one his cock would be more than happy to follow. Spencer shifts uncomfortably in his chair while he tries to convince his libido that David was talking about profiling, not fucking.

"You gave me the facts, which the locals already have. What have **you** got, Doctor Reid?", demands Rossi, drawing Spencer back to the case file. "The facts don't always tell us if its a serial, if it was about facts Garcia could write a program to identify BAU cases and we'd all be out of a job. What does your gut tell you about these victims?"

"It isn't a signature, its a style", mutters Spencer. "They look like professional contract kills, different weapons, bodies left where they fell, subdued with a blow to the head so each died from a single gunshot."

"Hitman develops a taste for his job, begins killing for pleasure instead of money?" Rossi responds, and now Spencer is losing all focus as those deceptively strong fingers dig in to the knot of tight muscle at the base of his neck. "Send it over to Carl Dennis in Organized crime. He'll know if the style matches a known operator. If it does, we'll take it to Hotch on Monday."

"Th..Th..Thanks Rossi." he stammers, and gathers the photos back in to the folder, his fingers sticky with nervous sweat. He hopes his discomfort has passed unnoticed but those hands are still working along his spine with maddening intensity and he's suddenly certain that David knows that he's hard as a rock under the cover of his desk.

The sudden absence of Rossi's warmth behind him makes Spencer stifle a whimper as the older profiler steps to the side of the desk, drawing Spencer's eyes up to meet that dazzling gaze. "Come out to my cabin this weekend. Agent Morgan and I were planning on getting away from civilization for a few days and you look like a man who could use a change of scenery." Rossi smiles, radiating heat that reaches inside Spencer in ways that make him wish he was anywhere but sitting in the middle of a room with glass walls and surrounded by a half-dozen trained observers.

He's almost too keyed up to answer, but the words just spill from his lips, "I think I might take you up on that."

"Don't think Spencer, just do" calls Rossi over his shoulder as he walks away.


End file.
